Recipe for Romance: A Bucky Barnes Story

22: Too Long

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

I stand erect; staring out at the street with icicles forming in my veins and fear in my heart. I take a slow step backwards, eyes unmoving, and realize I've lost most of the feeling in my limbs.

"Hey babe? Chinese food is a no-go. Place is closed today for some reason. I was thinking pasta. Whatcha think?"

Immediately I've turned at the sound of his voice. Bucky's in my doorway, staring down at the restaurants on Yelp in his phone, and hasn't made to look up at me yet. I pray to god he doesn't. If he doesn't see me he won't see my face. If he doesn't see my face he won't see my expression. And if he doesn't see my expression I won't have to explain it's because I just received another threat from my crazy father in the form of a kindergarten art project outside my bedroom window.

"Pasta is fine."

Bucky's blue eyes dart up immediately. He's worried. Maybe it's something in my tone, or the fact that I've had so much pasta in the last week that I really shouldn't be in the mood and he knows it. Something turns him onto the fact that I'm acting strange. It leads him to gape up at me wordlessly until finally walking closer.

But I try to beat him.

"Actually, I think we should do pizza. We haven't had pizza in a while. I've been craving pepperoni. Don't you like pepperoni?" I block his path with my body, trying to casually guide him out of my bedroom, and continue to blabber uselessly. "Oh that's right, you like your pizza pretty plain. But we could compromise and do half-half. I'd be fine just getting cheese as long as we get bread sticks."

Finally we've made it out into the hall. Bucky, still not convinced that something isn't wrong, pulls out of my grip at the last moment and ducks back inside the room. I curse and jog after him: not at all excited about what finding this message is going to mean in terms of the rest of my evening.

Bucky's stuck in the same place I just was. He's at my window, staring down at the chalk, and not moving a single muscle. But he doesn't gasp inwardly as I had done. No, he stands completely emotionless on the outside. But inside? Oh god, I can practically feel the waves of anger radiating off of his rigid muscled back.

"...Buck?"

Bucky turns back to look at me at the sound of my voice. I'm sitting on the end of my bed, hands wringing together, and looking up at him quietly. He seems to inspect my face for a moment before shaking his head and pulling out his phone. Then, voice serious and somber, he says, "I'm calling Romanoff. She'll come up and stay with you."

I stand. "Where the hell are you going to be?"

Bucky's already got his phone to his ear. "I'm going to find the bastard."

"Bucky, no." I've come to his side and make to move the phone away from his ear. He only turns to give me his back. I'm too short to reach it as he stands taller on his toes. "Leave it alone, Bucky. Please just let it be..."

"Let it be? Sadie, he's insane! If you step out of this tower alone he's going to kill you."

"He won't kill me," I pause and then add, "I don't think he would, anyway."

Bucky sighs. Nat still hasn't picked up on her side of the line. He hangs up and tries another number. "Like I said, Romanoff can come up and make sure he doesn't try contacting you again while I'm gone. But this needs to be done."

"No." Adamant I keep my voice deep and level. Bucky just sighs at the sight of me crossing my arms. When I realize this isn't going to work I opt for a more damsel-in-distress sort of approach. "Bucky, please." My hands reach out to coax his arms down. It takes a few strokes for him to succumb to my will and drop the phone at his side-- leaving Steve to mutter, "Hello? Hello? Bucky?" on the other side before eventually hanging up.